


Mortality

by RedShirtWriter34567



Category: Fright Night (2011), Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Feelings Realization, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture, kidnappings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShirtWriter34567/pseuds/RedShirtWriter34567
Summary: Peter and Aro love each other, but are both willing to commit to each other, one mortal, the other immortal?
Relationships: Aro (Twilight)/Peter Vincent
Comments: 47
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

Aro stared up at the ceiling of Peter's bedroom. The black silk sheets were soft against his bare skin, as was the press of Peter's warm skin against his. The hunter was sound asleep next to the vampire, his face more relaxed than it ever looked when he was awake. His hair was tousled and fanned out across his pillow, his lips parted slightly as soft snores escaped his mouth. One of his arms was draped across Aro's stomach, keeping him near. Aro smiled at the sight and reached out, brushing his fingers through his lover's soft hair. Peter hummed at the contact and nuzzled closer, his lips tugging up into a faint smile. Waves of contentment and peace coursed from him, his heart beating slowly and steadily. This was often how they slept, Peter clinging to Aro like a koala, until he moved away in his sleep. Once he did, Aro would place the stuffed bat Amy had bought Peter in the hospital into his arms.

He found it quite cute that Peter would instantly curl around the toy, hugging it to his chest and pressing his face into the soft black fur. Aro would still stay in bed with his lover even after he moved away, usually passing the time reading or just thinking, remembering. At the moment he was thinking about something that had been at the back of his mind since he and Peter had begun seeing each other. Aro was certain he'd never loved anyone as much as he loved Peter, no offense to Sulipicia. He knew Peter loved him too, in his own way. He didn't often say it out loud, unless the situation called for it, perhaps. Aro hadn't wanted to fall in love with a human, and he certainly never expected to, but he'd been drawn to Peter from the start. His soulful eyes, his tough exterior that hid his damaged soul, his loudness and crassness, they all challenged Aro. As did the way Peter had denied his feelings for so long, despite how obvious the attraction was.

"I never thought I'd fall for a blood sucker," he'd said one evening. "I mean, I know we don't control who we fall for, but I just thought that.."

"Are you saying that you've fallen for me?" Aro had asked, flashing him a grin.

Peter had blushed at that and turned away, rubbing his neck. No matter what he did, his feelings for Aro were obvious. They'd been lovers for several months now, and had gone through a lot. Peter had even risked his life to save Aro's in Italy, cutting himself with an ancient knife and letting Aro drink his blood to save him from succumbing to a werewolf bite. That had sealed the fact that Peter was also Aro's mate, at least in a vampiric since. But what were they in human terms? No more than lovers, friends with benefits, at least to people not in Peter's inner circle. Aro's anger had been tested on many occasions at parties and other gatherings, where someone, either a beautiful woman or a handsome man, would walk up to Peter and begin to flirt with him, even when Aro was nearby. Peter would always brush them away, soothing Aro's temper, but only a little. 

'I want to show others that he's with me,' Aro thought to himself. 'So nobody will flirt with him any more.'

He knew that Peter would never cheat on him, but at the some time he knew his lover had appetites. Some were tame, others not so much. How long would it be until he gave in to his urges and left Aro for someone else? Someone......human? Aro bit his lip at the thought of losing Peter for any reason and looked over at his sleeping lover again. He knew how he could make Peter his: Marriage. Something Peter had never done, had probably never even thought about. And there was an obvious elephant in the room: Peter was mortal. He would eventually pass away, leaving Aro like many people did. Aro had accepted that a long time ago, but the thought still made him ill. The only way for Peter to escape that fate was to be turned immortal, but he had no intention of letting Aro turn him. He'd said that many times. 

"Death is a natural thing," Peter had said. "Immortality isn't. No offense, but when my time comes, that's it."

"I understand, my love," Aro had answered, though the words had caused an odd pain in his chest.

Peter moved away in his sleep, muttering something under his breath. Aro smiled and automatically grabbed the stuffed bat off the headboard, placing it within Peter's reach. The hunter instantly latched onto the toy and brought it to his chest, sighing sleepily. 

"I adore you," Aro whispered, stroking his lover's hair. "I want to show you how much I adore you."

Peter shifted in his sleep and bared his neck a little, the cross tattoos standing out against his pale skin. Aro could see faint marks from where the necklaces he would often wear had dug into his skin slightly. 

'Necklace?' Aro thought suddenly. An idea was slowly unfolding in his mind. He smiled and laid back against the pillows. He knew how to show Peter how much he loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter groaned as he woke up. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows, warming the blankets that covered him. He lifted his face from the pillow and ran a hand over his face and through his messy hair. He smiled slightly at his plush bat and set it back on the headboard, stretching his arms over his head. He looked around for Aro, but the vampire wasn't anywhere in sight. 

"Aro?" he called out.

"Good morning, my dear," Aro said, sweeping back into the room, tucking his phone into his pocket. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, rubbing his bare chest. "Could use some coffee, though."

"There's a pot waiting for you in the kitchen," Aro said. His cellphone beeped in his pocket and he took it out again. He frowned at the screen and left the room.

Peter frowned too and left the bed reluctantly. He pulled on his robe over his boxers without closing it and walked out into the kitchen. Sure enough, a fresh pot of coffee was sitting on the counter next an empty mug. Peter poured himself some and added some sugar, then took a sip. Aro was standing at the table, texting on his phone, his brow furrowed. There was newspaper spread out on the table, along with some breakfast pastries, still warm.

"Everything alright?" Peter asked, walking over to the table. He set his coffee down and picked up a pastry, dipping it into his cup.

"I'm not sure," Aro admitted. "Something odd is happening back in Italy."

"Odd how?" Peter asked, his mouth full.

Aro turned the newspaper and showed him the front page. It was newspaper from Italy, so Peter couldn't read the words, but the large picture showed several police men and reporters clustered around a body covered by a white sheet. Peter raised an eyebrow and swallowed.

"There's been a murder?" he guessed, glancing up at Aro.

"Murders," Aro corrected. "It started when a man was found in a ditch, drained of almost half his blood. Now it's gone from one victim to five in the last two days. People are getting suspicious."

"Is it a vampire?" Peter asked. "Not one of your family, though, right?"

"I hope not," Aro sighed, setting his phone down. "But with five victims all with the same cause of death, it could be either a rogue vampire or a weakened one."

"Weakened one?" Peter asked. "What do you mean?"

"All the victims so far have been older, more vulnerable humans," Aro explained. "Vampires like myself are very careful about who or what we take blood from. If it's tainted somehow, it effects us as well. Whoever is killing these people must be a vampire too weak to prey on stronger victims, so they're choosing easier prey, gaining their strength back slowly. And just leaving the bodies in broad daylight like that is reckless. It won't be long until the humans begin to panic, especially if more victims start appearing."

"Do you think it could be your brother?" Peter asked quietly, crossing his arms. "Marcus?"

Just the name sent a chill through the air. Marcus hadn't been seen since a month ago, when he'd tried to kill both Aro, Peter, and Sulipicia. Aro, despite his weakened state at the time, had be able to overpower his brother and tossed him out a window after lighting him on fire with a torch. Still, that hadn't reassured anybody that he was gone for good, especially since several other of the Volturi had vanished with him. Peter rubbed his neck nervously, watching the troubled light in Aro's crimson eyes.

"If it is Marcus or some other rogue members of the Volturi, then I will have to go back to Italy," Aro murmured. "Sulipicia needs help trying to track them down, spread out as they are."

"But what if it's not Marcus or the others," Peter protested. "What if it's just some other faction of vampires?"

"Even so, I'll still be needed," Aro replied. "I can't have rogues killing innocent mortals, or more blood will be spill, human and vampire alike." His phone chirped on the table again. 

Peter caught the word 'necklace' before Aro picked up his phone and cursed under his breath. 

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"Sulipicia," Aro responded without looking up. "She needs my help to try and stop the killings before they get worse." He sighed as he looked up into Peter's worried brown eyes. "I have to leave as soon as possible."

"Take me with you," Peter blurted instantly. "I could help you."

Aro set his phone down again and pulled Peter into his arms, holding his warm, slender form against cold one. Peter wrapped his arms around Aro's neck, brown eyes meeting red. 

"I love you, Peter," Aro whispered, cupping his face. "You've already risked your life once for me. I can't ask you to do that again. If Marcus is responsible for these murders, and he sees you in Italy again, he won't hesitate to try and kill you again. I won't risk you safety like that. I can't."

"But I can help," Peter protested again. "You know I can. Please don't leave me here."

Aro touched their foreheads together. "I don't want to leave you, my love," he said. "But I must keep the peace between the humans and my people." He brushed his thumbs along Peter's sharp cheekbones. "I leave tomorrow, but three days after I do, and before I return, a package will arrive here for you. Promise me you'll open it when you get it." 

"Okay," Peter replied softly. "What's in the package exactly?"

Aro smiled and kissed his lover's lips gently. "You'll find out in due time, my dear."


	3. Chapter 3

Peter whined at the sound that broke into his sleep. He cracked open one eye, trying to see in the darkness. Aro was moving around as silently as he could, packing some things into his suitcase. His pale skin and dark hair shone in the moonlight streaming in through the window. His red eyes looked troubled. Peter glanced at the clock on his nightstand. The red numbers flashed three in the morning. 

"Come back to bed," Peter mumbled. 

Aro froze in his packing and came over to the bed. He sat down and ran his hand through Peter's tousled hair. The hunter purred at the touch, closing his eyes in bliss.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Aro whispered. "I was just packing. My flight isn't until nine."

"Then come back to bed," Peter repeated. "It's too warm without you."

Aro chuckled, looking into his lover's sleep-heavy brown eyes. "Just let me finish and I'll come back."

Peter hummed in agreement and laid back down, watching Aro resume his packing. Once he was finished, he stripped down to his underwear and crawled under the covers beside Peter. The human instantly plastered himself against the vampire, resting his head on Aro's cool, smooth chest. Aro stroked his hair idly, staring up at the ceiling like he usually did. He seemed troubled and pensive, more so than usual. Peter shifted around and rested his chin against the vampire's sternum.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You seem upset about something."

"It's nothing, my dear," Aro said, stroking his cheek. "Go to sleep, love."

Peter arched an eyebrow at the easy deflection and pressed closer. "You're worried about the trip, aren't you?"

"Yes," Aro admitted. "The Volturi haven't shed human blood like this in centuries. If things continue this way it could result in devastating consequences."

"You don't know that it's Marcus yet," Peter reminded him. "It might just be some rogue vampires. You'll figure things out."

Aro smiled at him and brought their lips together. Peter sighed into the kiss, straddling the vampire's waist and tossing the blanket aside. He could feel Aro's length pressing against his thigh, hard and leaking. He slid a hand down the vampire's torso and cupped him through his underwear, palming him leisurely. Aro moaned and pushed his hips up into Peter's hand, his pupils huge and dark, shining in the dim light. 

"I think you could use a distraction," Peter said, his voice low and rough. 

"I think so, too," Aro gasped. "Please, distract me."

Peter growled and kissed the vampire hungrily, peeling his underwear off and away. He pulled Aro's bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away, leaving kisses and bites down his neck, shoulders, and his collarbones, wishing he could leave a mark against the smooth skin. He reached the vampire's cock and took just the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Aro tangled a hand in his hair, pushing him further down. Peter took him all the way into his mouth, teasingly licking the head and scraping his teeth gently across the shaft, the way Aro loved it. Peter's own cock was rock hard and tenting his boxers, and he rocked his hips against the mattress to gain some friction. Aro's moaning was getting louder, and Peter could tell he was getting close, but since he was leaving in the morning, Peter wanted to feel him inside him one more time before he left. He pulled off with an obscene sound and licked lips, staring at Aro with lustful eyes.

"I need you inside me," he gasped. "Fuck me so that I still feel it while you're away." He pulled his underwear off and straddled Aro again, moaning at the skin to skin contact.

"Peter," Aro moaned, fumbling for the lube they kept in the bedside table.

He slicked up some of his fingers and caressed Peter's ass, teasing his entrance. He slipped one finger in past the tight ring of muscle, watching Peter's face for any discomfort. The hunter rocked his hips and pushed back against Aro's finger, urging him on. Aro added a second finger, scissoring them. Peter keened, gathering the sheets in his fists. His erection pulsed against his smooth stomach, pearly fluid smearing his flesh. He rocked his hips urgently, so Aro added a third slick digit, twisting them roughly and hitting his lover's sweet spot.

"Fuck me, Aro," Peter moaned, his eyes bright and desperate. 

Aro growled at the need in his lover's voice and removed his fingers. He flipped them over, pinning Peter on his back and hoisting his legs over his shoulders. He slicked up his erection and slid deep inside of the hunter, moaning at the tightness and warmth. Peter moaned and arched his back, the tendons in his neck pulsing enticingly. Aro leaned down and sank his teeth into the skin, making sure a mark appeared as he started thrusting his hips. Peter wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him by the hair into a sloppy kiss. The bed groaned with their movements as Aro began to speak, his smooth voice roughed by desire.

"You're so beautiful," he said in Peter's ear, nibbling the shell. "The most gorgeous thing I've seen. I wish I could be inside you all the time, hearing the noises you make while you squeeze around my cock." He shifted angle and stabbed deeper, hitting Peter's prostate dead on. 

Peter screamed, his back arching beautifully, his hair a mess, his eyes darkened to black, the epitome of debauched as he clenched tighter around Aro's length. Aro moaned and aimed for that spot over and over, hearing Peter's moans and cries getting louder and higher. With a well-timed thrust and a sharp bite to his nipple, Peter came with a loud cry of Aro's name, warm come squirting up onto his chest, catching in his sparse chest hair. His tight, slick heat grew tighter around Aro, and the vampire moaned as he came as well, filling his lover deeply. He shrugged Peter's legs off his shoulders and collapsed on top of him, hearing Peter's racing heart, smelling his desire and the scent of their sex in the air. He pulled out slowly, kissing Peter's forehead when he whined at the loss. The vampire left the room and returned quickly with a damp cloth. He tenderly cleaned the sweat and seed off Peter's body, tossed the cloth aside, tucked his lover in, and crawled under the blankets with him again.

"Feel better?" Peter asked, a pleased smirk on his lips as he cuddled into Aro's chest.

"Immensely," Aro replied, kissing him. "Get some rest, my love."

Peter closed his eyes and fell asleep, hearing Aro whisper tender words in Italian as he drifted off.

................  
Peter awoke to the sound of Aro's phone chiming. He rolled over, a dull but pleasant ache coursing through his body. He set up and the covers fell away from his naked body, revealing the bites and bruises along his hips and chest. He cracked his joints and looked over at the clock. It was eight thirty, which meant Aro was due to leave soon. Peter left the bed, pulling on his underwear still on the floor from last night and his robe. He walked out into the kitchen and saw Aro standing there, beside a cup of coffee and a plate of toast on the counter, texting on his phone. He was fully dressed in a black suit, his hair combed back, His large leather suitcase was waiting by the door.

"Good morning, my dear," he said without looking up.

"Morning," Peter replied, limping toward the coffee and toast. He took a sip and sighed. "Your ride here yet?"

"Yes," Aro answered. "But I wanted to see you before I left." He tucked his phone away again and walked toward the door.

Peter put his coffee down and followed, crossing his arms, trying not to sulk at the thought of Aro leaving. He leaned against the table by the door and sighed softly.

"Don't sulk, my love," Aro admonished lightly. 

"M'not sulking," Peter mumbled. "I just don't want you to leave."

Aro smiled and glided over to him, pulling him close.

"I won't be gone long," he promised. "And remember what I told you about the package, yes?"

"Yeah," Peter replied. "Open it as soon as I get it."

Aro nodded and kissed him gently. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against Peter's.

"I'll miss you, Peter," he whispered. "I love you."

"Yeah, I know," Peter mumbled, blushing. "I'll miss you too."

Aro chuckled and walked away. He pulled up the handle of his suitcase, opened the door, kissed Peter's cheek, then he was gone. Peter walked over to the window and watched Aro get into a cab. He lingered a little and turned around, looking up at Peter. He smiled and blew him a kiss dramatically. Peter laughed and waved from the window, watching his lover get into the cab and vanish from view.

"Be safe," Peter whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

Aro missed Peter already. He placed his suitcase in his chambers in Volturi castle, feeling a heaviness weighing on him. His flight had just landed in Italy, at three in the morning, though the time difference didn't bother him. A limo had been waiting to at the airport and had brought him straight to the castle. He could sense the unease and fear in the humans he walked through the airport, all of them on edge and anxious due to the murders. Already there had been another killing, reported an hour ago while Aro was still on the plane. His plan was to meet with Sulpicia at the scene of the killing before the police showed up. It was only a couple miles from the main city. Before he left, he reached into the front pocket of his suitcase and removed a small, square object delicately wrapped in black velvet.

Aro unwrapped it slowly, revealing a small, framed picture of Peter, dressed in dark leather pants, boots, and a T-shirt. His hair was boyishly tousled, his eyes brightened by his eyeliner, his lips pulled up into a roguish smirk. Aro smiled at the picture and pressed a kiss to it before tucking into his chest pocket, reassured by the weight of it. He quickly left to meet Sulpicia at the killing sight, hoping that because it was a fresh kill, there would be clues as to who or what had done it. The night was cool, a light breeze blowing his hair about as he made his way through the fields where the killing had taken place. The moon was almost full, the stars glittering like tossed diamonds. He reached the scene in ten minutes and saw Sulpicia standing there, the hood of her cloak pulled up over her hair. Her pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, unblemished as a bowl of sugar. She turned sharply in his direction.

"You're here," she said, relief coloring her voice. 

"Yes," Aro said. "I'm sorry it took me a little longer. How long ago was the killing?"

"By the looks of things, perhaps a couple hours," she answered. "Come see for yourself."

Aro approached the body that Sulpicia had been guarding. He circled it slowly taking in the details with all his senses. The victim was an older man, his hair thinning, his skin wrinkled as an onion. His clothes were shabby and torn, stained with blood oozing from two puncture wounds in his neck. The air still smelled fresh from his death, the rich scent of his blood heady as a potent wine. He'd been attacked from behind, from the way his body was positioned, his head jerked back so his neck was exposed. He still had some blood, but a lot of it was gone, drained away as if by magic.

"This is despicable," Sulpicia growled. "Why would one of our people do this?"

"Our family has been around for centuries," Aro said thoughtfully. "Some have been more receptive to the changes in the world than others. I've been trying to change their feelings, but it seems that I have failed in that aspect."

"Speaking of humans," Sulpicia said, "how's Peter doing?"

"He's fine," Aro answered. "Though, he was rather put out about my leaving. He wanted to come with me, but he's risked his life for me enough. He's safer in Vegas with his friends."

Sulpicia nodded and pursed her lips slightly. Aro crouched down in the grass, inhaling deeply, trying to catch the killer's scent among the smells of wet grass, blood, and fresh earth.

"Were you serious in that message you sent me?" Sulpicia asked suddenly. "About wanting to give Peter a Volturi necklace? Asking him to marry you?"

"Yes, I am very serious," Aro said, rising to his feet. "I love Peter, Sulpicia. And while he may be a mortal, I want to be able to call him my husband, my mate, for as long as we are together."

"I understand that, Aro," Sulpicia replied. "And you know I support your relationship with him, especially after what he did for you. But does he even want to be married? Has he ever been married?"

"No, he's never been married," Aro answered slowly, avoiding the first question. "But I'm confident that he loves me. That should be enough."

Sulpicia looked as though she was about to say something else when a noise broke through the night air. Both vampires froze and tensed, looking around carefully, inhaling deeply. Aro caught the acrid smell of smoke, mixed with the scent of fresh blood. He turned around just in time to see a dark shape moving quickly through the field, back toward the city light gleaming in the distance.

"There," he said. "Looks like we might have found our killer. But why are they going toward the city?"

"Maybe they're locating another victim," Sulpicia surmised. "We have to head them off before they do."

They ran after the figure, tracking them as they ran. Whoever the killer was, they obviously could sense that they were being followed, as they began to run faster, knocking over trash cans and other objects to stop the pursuit. Aro was closest to the killer, and caught sight of them as they darted into an alley, vanishing from sight. Aro ran into the alley and saw the figure standing at the end of it, looking around for an escape route, but they were trapped. 

"Whoever you are, just give yourself up and I will spare you," Aro called out. "No more blood has to be shed." He walked closer to the figure just as they let out a dangerously familiar laugh.

"No more bloodshed, brother?" the stranger asked. "You truly have gone soft." The man turned, revealing Marcus' face, thin and pale and cruel, with thick, shiny scars slashing across his face.

"Marcus?" Aro growled, clenching his fists. "How is this possible?"

"I think the real question here, brother, is how could you be so stupid?" Marcus snarled.

"Aro!" Sulpicia shouted suddenly, but it too late.

Just as Aro turned to face her, a second dark figure dropped into the alley from the roof of one of the buildings, landing next to Aro. They wore a black cloak with a scarf obscuring their face, eyes flashing like pools of blood as they grabbed Aro by the throat and threw him into the brick wall. He hit it with such force that cracks appeared across the worn bricks. Aro crumpled to his knees, his hair falling around his face. Marcus lunged at him, kicking him squarely in the ribs and across the concrete. Aro hissed at the pain and tried to stand, but a sharp prick to the side of his neck stopped him. He gasped and put a hand to his neck, watching as the new attacker stepped back, a syringe glinting in their right hand, empty of whatever substance had been inside it, now coursing through Aro. His vision began to blur, his hearing growing faint. He tried to stand, but his muscles had turned to lead, and crumpled back to the ground.

"Leave him alone," he heard Sulpicia shouted faintly. 

The world began to spin like out of control wheel. Aro felt nauseous, his skin warming unnaturally quickly. Marcus' face appeared, hovering over him, his scarred lips twisted into an evil smile, his dark red eyes flashing cruelly.

"Sleep well, brother," he purred, and Aro's vision went black.

.....................  
Aro groaned as he opened his eyes. His head was pounding, and his vision was still distorted and blurry. He could smell rat droppings and old hay. Water steadily dripped from somewhere, each drop making the pain his head worse. He was hanging a few feet above a stone floor, his wrists bound in heavy chain above his head. He wore only his pants, and his bare back scraped against the rough stone wall. He attempted to raise his head, but it hurt too much. His chest ached from where Marcus had kicked him. He licked his lips, his mouth dry and stale. He jumped slightly when he heard a door creak open and footsteps approach, coming down some stairs by the sound of things. 

"Welcome back, brother," Marcus said pleasantly. "How do you feel?"

Aro snarled and lifted his head slowly. Through the thick curtain of his hair falling over his face, he could make out Marcus, standing behind the bars of the cell Aro was locked in. Behind him. a long table was crowded with weapons-whips, daggers, hammers, maces, even a muzzle. Marcus twirled something idly in his hand. Aro squinted and saw that it was another syringe, full of some kind of thick, greenish liquid. He felt himself tense as Marcus unlocked the cell and stepped inside, walking right up to him.

"Nothing to say?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "There's a first. The great Aro Volturi doesn't have anything to say?"

Aro growled and struggled against the chains, but he felt weak and sick and....vulnerable. He couldn't break them. Marcus seemed delighted by his realization.

"Yes, you're probably wondering lots of things, brother dear," he said. "How am I alive? Where am I? Why do I feel weak as a newborn?" He cackled and held up the syringe for Aro to see. "That last part is thanks to this. A marvelous concoction made up by a chemist who I paid handsomely for his services. This turns you weak, slows your healing, slows everything. Let's you feel all the pain your powers would spare you of. Isn't that amazing?"

He jabbed the needle harshly into Aro's chest and injected the liquid. Aro watched, wide-eyed with fear as felt the drug merge with his bloodstream. Heat raced across his skin, sweat gushing from every pore. He tried to hold back a whimper but he couldn't help it. Marcus laughed again and withdrew the syringe, taking a step back. 

"Now, let's what your pain tolerance is, brother," he said with relish.

He walked over to the far wall of the cell, out of Aro's field of vision, and came back holding a dagger with a serrated blade. He held it up for Aro to see, before he slashed it through the air, ripping open a wound near Aro's collarbone. He yelled out at the searing pain, dark blood oozing down his skin. Marcus made another cut, slashing upward near Aro's hip. Blood spilled onto the stone floor, shimmering in the dim light. The torture continued for a what felt like forever, until the familiar sound of a cellphone ringing could be heard over Aro's screams of pain and Marcus' sadistic laughing.

"Dammit, what is that infernal noise?" Marcus snarled, storming out of the cell.

He stalked over to the table and rummaged through some clothes that Aro recognized as his own. Marcus pulled Aro's cellphone from the pocket of his crumpled jacket and smirked as he examined the screen. He walked back into the cell and held the device out to Aro mockingly. Peter's name flashed across the screen. Aro whimpered again.

"I'll let you speak to him, as long as you tell him that everything is fine," Marcus instructed. "If you don't, I will skin you alive."

Aro nodded quickly. Marcus hit accept and put the phone on speaker. 

"Aro?" Peter asked. "Are you there?"

The bound vampire swallowed before he spoke.

"I'm here, my love," he said, his voice raspy and dry. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," Peter replied, his voice easing Aro's pain a little. "How's the investigation going?"

"Fine," Aro replied through gritted teeth. "Sulpicia and I are closing in on the killer."

"Is it Marcus?" Peter asked worriedly

Aro was silent, feeling Marcus staring at him before he answered, "No, it isn't Marcus. I was mistaken."

Peter let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God for that. I have to go. I'm going out with Charley and Amy tonight. I'll call you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Alright," Aro replied., his voice cracking. "Goodbye, Peter. I love you." Tears welled up in his eyes as Marcus hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket.

He caressed Aro's face. :Now, where were we?" His eyes gleamed. Aro sobbed.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter frowned as he hung up his phone. Aro had sounded a little....off. Almost like he was in pain. Aro was normally so collected. It took a lot to make him lose his composure, though usually all some had to do was flirt with Peter, and the vampire's eyes would darken, his pupils expanding to cover his red irises. But all Peter had to do to calm his lover down was stroke his chest and whisper into his ear, until his eyes went back to normal. Peter would be lying if he said that he didn't find Aro's possessiveness attractive. It made him feel wanted, desired even. Nobody had ever loved him the way Aro did. His phone chimed suddenly, breaking Peter out of his thoughts. He checked it and saw a message from Charley.

'Are you on your way?'

Peter sent him a quick 'Yeah, I'm on my way,' then resumed getting ready. He was meeting Charley and Amy at a hole-in-the wall bar for drinks and a punk band that was supposed to perform. He applied some thick kohl around his eyes, then poured some gel on his hands and ran them through his hair, making it look messy on purpose. He pulled on a black leather jacket, made sure he had his phone, his keys, his wallet, then left his apartment. The bar was only a block away from his building, so he decided to walk rather than take a cab. He walked out of his building and down the street, the Vegas air warm pleasant. As Peter walked, he couldn't shake this weird feeling, like he was being watched. He looked around a few times, but never saw anybody. He finally reached the bar, called the Drunken Spade. Charley and Amy were waiting outside, both of them dressed in punk-like garb of black leather, chains, dark make-up.

"There you are," Charley said as Peter walked up.

"Sorry I'm late," Peter said. "I wanted to call Aro and see how he was doing."

"How is he?" Amy asked as they entered the bar.

"He sounded a little off," Peter admitted. "I couldn't really place why."

"He's probably just worried about the killings," Charley said. "Did he say anything about those?"

"Only that it wasn't Marcus or the other Volturi," Peter replied. "That's some good news, at least."

They walked through the bar, which was packed with people all dressed like they were-leather jackets, ripped up jeans, dark makeup, even a few spiked collars and bracelets. They claimed three stools up at the bar, with a perfect view of the stage, where the band already was, tuning their instruments. 

"First rounds on me," Charley said. "What'll it be?"

"Tequila to start it off," Peter suggested. 

"Good idea," Amy agreed. 

Charley nodded and slapped the bar. "Three shots of tequila!"

The bar tender brought their shots over and Charley slid a ten dollar bill across the bar. All three of them grabbed their drinks and raised them up high.

"Cheers," Amy said as they clinked glasses and downed their shots.

Peter hissed at the taste and quickly sucked on the lime. The band started playing, and it wasn't long before the whole bar was on its feet, clapping to the beat and shouting out the lyrics. After each set, Peter, Charley, and Amy took a shot of a different alcohol-whiskey, bourbon, vodka, rum, even a combo of cider and cinnamon whiskey. Peter felt warm and tingly, but when he reached his limit of five shots, he stopped. The last thing he needed was to be really drunk and then make a stupid mistake. By the time the band took a break, Charley and Amy were far gone and making out passionately. Peter watched them with a smirk and shook his head.

"They should get a room, eh?" a voice in his ear asked. 

Peter turned around on his stool and faced found a man leaning against the bar, eyeing him up and down. He wore ripped black jeans, a studded jacket, and a spiked bracelet on his right wrist. His thick blond hair was messy and streaked with black in the front, He had a come-hither smile on his lips, a piercing gleaming in the corner of his mouth.

"It doesn't bother me," Peter said. "They're my friends."

"Good," the man replied. "I was worried you were with one of them." He slid into the empty stool next to Peter. "My name's Thomas. What's yours?"

"Peter," Peter answered. "And you should know that I'm seeing someone."

"Really?" Thomas arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking down to look at Peter's hands. "I don't see a ring on that finger."

"We're not married," Peter explained quickly. "We've just been seeing each other for a while."

Thomas hummed and leaned in a little closer, a hungry look in his eye. Peter leaned away from him, his skin crawling with invisible bugs. 

"Can I get you another drink?" Thomas asked, his voice low and smoky.

"No, thanks," Peter answered sternly. "I have to go."

He abandoned the bar and pushed his way through the crowd and out the front door. He leaned against the grimy wall and his head in his hands, messing up his styled hair. This was why he had a five-shot limit. God only knew what he would end up doing when he was fully trashed. He couldn't-wouldn't-betray Aro like that. But something Thomas had said echoed around in his head, resonating like a ringing bell. 'I don't see a ring on that finger.'

In truth, Peter had never in his life considered getting married, mostly because of his own baggage, but also because he had always thought that nobody would ever fall in love him, or vice versa. But....Aro loved him despite everything-his mental issues, his trauma, his cussing, everything. He even loved Peter even though he was a mortal. Peter raked his hands across his face and looked at his left hand, the nails painted black and glossy. He rubbed his ring finger, wondering if he was even marriage material. 

'I'm still such a bloody mess,' he thought to himself. 'I would destroy any marriage with anyone, including Aro.'

He shook his head and started walking back to his building. He needed to sober up. As he walked back home, the feeling of being watched returned. He tensed up as he walked, looking around nervously but not seeing anybody. He didn't relax until he safely inside his apartment, where he went straight to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face, then cleaned off his makeup and took a hot shower. Wrapped up in his robe, he flopped down on the couch in the living room with a sigh. He leaned back against the cushions and stared up at the ceiling. He missed Aro so much already. He missed the way Aro's fingers would card through his hair, the way he would kiss and nibble his neck, the way he would whisper in his ear how much he loved Peter, how much he adored him. 

"I love you, Peter," Aro would tell him everyday in his smooth voice.

Peter had only said it back a few times, and he hesitated before he did each time. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that a vampire had fallen for him, and that he'd fallen for a vampire. 

'But do I love him enough to marry him?' Peter thought. 

He thought about that for a little while before he got up from the couch, changed into some old jeans and a T-shirt, then crawled into bed, clutching his plush bat against his chest as he fell asleep. 

.................  
The tinkling of breaking glass jerked Peter out of his sleep. He grumbled and blinked his eyes open. His bedroom was dark, the only light coming from his alarm clock, which showed that it was two in the morning. The sound happened again, louder, and Peter sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"What the hell?" he mumbled. 

He shuffled over to his bedroom door and opened it, walking out into the living room, where he froze in his tracks. His front door was wide open, one of the glass panes from it shattered on the floor. Peter tensed as he carefully moved toward the bar, where he kept several weapons stored under it. His fingers had just closed over the handle of a knife when something inhumanly strong grabbed him from behind. Peter yelled out and tried to break free, but the attacker's grip was like steel. They tossed Peter away from the bar and across the room. Peter rolled across the floor, crying out in pain as he hit the coffee table with his shoulder. He stood up as the attacker lunged at him again, wearing jeans and hoodie, the face hidden in the depths of the hood. Peter dodged and made a break for his room, but the stranger tackled him from behind and knocked him into the wall. 

"Fuck," Peter shouted as his head smacked into the wall. 

He fell to one knee, feeling warm blood drip from his head and down the side of his face. The attacker kicked him hard in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Peter gasped in pain and spat blood on the floor, his vision getting hazy. Pain burned in his chest as he tried to breath. The assailant suddenly hauled appeared in front of him, and they tossed the hood of their sweater back. Peter gasped as he laid eyes on a face that he thought he'd never see again.

"Y-you can't be here," he said, spitting more blood from his mouth. "You're-you're supposed to be dead!"

"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, Mr. Vincent," Jerry Daindrige sneered, his fangs flashing as his face distorted into something monstrous. 

He kicked Peter again, square in the jaw and sending him careening backward. Peter's vision went dark before his head hit the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

Stabbing pain was the first thing Peter felt when he woke up. His eyes hammered open and he groaned. Everything ached-his shoulder, his jaw. his chest, especially his head. He tried to sit up and hissed, putting a hand to his head. His hair was caked with dried blood from the cut above his ear. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a small, shabby room, dimly lit with light bulbs hanging from the grimy ceiling. There was some simple furniture around-a rickety table, some chairs, a sink and a toilet. Peter himself was laying on a mattress on the rough brick floor, his bare feet shackled to the floor by his ankles. He stood up and found that chains were long enough for him to move around, but not enough for him to reach the other parts of the room. 

"Damn," Peter muttered, rubbing his jaw/

His teeth felt loose, but he still had all of them. His chest ached too, and he lifted his shirt to see the colorful array of bruises along his torso. Jerry had certainly done a number on him.

'But why didn't he just kill me?' he thought. 

The loud sound of a door unlocking startled him out of his reverie. Jerry swaggered into the room, wearing a black tank top and ripped jeans. His face was normal, except for the blood stained across his jaw and lips. His eyes were huge and dilated, like a junkie who'd just shot up. Peter felt his skin crawl when the vampire stopped just short of him, arms crossed over his chest. 

"What the fuck?" Peter snapped. "How the hell are you back? We killed you!"

"Vampires can hold grudges for a long time, Vincent," Jerry replied smoothly. "We remain restless for eternity, longing for revenge. I yearned for it, almost as much as I yearn for blood. Luckily, my body was found by another vampire, who injected me with this amazing elixir, bringing me back to...Well, death technically. And do you know what the first thing I thought of was when I woke up?" He stood right in front of Peter, who tried to stare back in defiance, but looked away. "I thought of you, Peter Vincent. And your friends, Charley and Amy, but mostly you." 

Peter suppressed a shiver and backed away slightly, his chains rattling loudly. Jerry closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His brow furrowed suddenly, and he opened his eyes, looking intrigued. 

"You're marked," he said, raising an eyebrow. 

"What?" Peter demanded. "What do mean 'marked'?"

"A vampire has claimed you," Jerry stated. "I can smell it on you, on your skin, your clothes." He leaned closer to Peter, sniffing.

"Fuck off, bloodsucker," Peter barked, backing away more.

Jerry hummed and smirked, making Peter's heart thunder against his ribcage. 

"Because you're claimed, looks like I can't turn you," Jerry said. "But that doesn't mean I can't break you in other ways. Maybe I can actually make you beg me to turn you into one of us."

"I'll never turn into one of you!" Peter spat. "Aro will come for me, and he'll fucking destroy you!"

"Aro?" Jerry asked. "Is that who's marked you?" He laughed. "But he's not in Vegas, is he? He went back to Italy."

Peter gasped. "H-how do you know that?"

Jerry grinned dangerously. "Until he does, or doesn't come back, you are mine, Peter. Do whatever I tell you, or I will make you wish I'd killed you outright!"

Peter spat in the vampire's face, eyes bright with anger. Jerry slowly reached up and wiped away the blood-tinged saliva, flicking it away onto the ground. He lunged at Peter, so fast that the hunter had no time to react. Jerry pinned him face down against the brick floor, putting his full weight onto Peter's back. Peter yelled out as his chest and shoulder burned with pain. He felt something inside his chest snap, and he screamed. Jerry dug his sharp nails into Peter's scalp and jerked his head back.

"Are you going to obey me?" he whispered in the hunter's ear.

"Yes," Peter sobbed, tears rolling down his face.

Jerry smiled. "Good."

He let go and got off of Peter, who rolled over onto his back, gasping. He coughed, and pain ripped through him like hot knives. The tears in his eyes caused his vision to distort, but he could make out Jerry, standing over him, laughing. 

"We are going to have so much fun," he purred, walking away.

Peter heard the door shut and lock again. He whimpered as he rubbed at his chest, feeling the rib that had cracked poking him from the inside. He sniffled and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Aro, please come back," he whispered. "I need you."


	7. Chapter 7

Aro had never experienced such feelings of pain and hopelessness. His cell was dark, save for the single rays of sunlight shining into the room through the high, barred windows. He was still suspended above the floor of his cell, the chains cutting into the skin of his wrists. His long dark hair was matted and tangled, like a wild animal's. His skin burned with pain, his body's healing still slowed by the continuous drug injections from Marcus. Wounds from daggers and knives oozed blood, his back ripped to shreds from the whippings he'd received. He was also hungry. He hadn't had blood of any kind since he'd left Vegas. Marcus was starving him, which added to his weakened state.

Even more concerning was that Peter hadn't called since yesterday and Aro was scared. Was his lover in danger? He couldn't be sure. He had no way of communicating with him now. He flinched when he heard his cell door opening. He kept his eyes closed as footsteps approached him. A cold hand appeared on his face, stroking the muzzle bound across his mouth. He tried to move away from the touch, but he couldn't.

"Wake up, brother dear," Marcus purred.

Aro refused, keeping his eyes tightly shut. Marcus clicked his tongue disapprovingly and yanked on Aro's tangled hair. The vampire let out a muffled hiss and opened his eyes. Marcus stood in front of him, his scarred face twisted into a cruel smile. His deep red eyes glinted with evil glee. Aro shuddered and averted his eyes, staring at the blood-stained floor. Marcus stroked his face, making Aro's stomach clench. He held a small bowl in his other hand, full of dark red liquid. Aro inhaled and the scent of the blood made him moan with hunger and longing. Even though it smelled off, he wanted to drink it. He was that desperate. Marcus seemed to notice this, because he held the bowl up to Aro, in front of his covered mouth.

"Thirsty?" he asked.

Aro moaned behind the muzzle, straining to reach the bowl when Marcus pulled it away. Aro whimpered, hands clenching.

"I'll let you drink if you promise not to scream," Marcus told him. "Understand?"

Aro nodded eagerly. Marcus reached up and undid the muzzle from Aro's mouth. The vampire licked his dry, cracked lips with an equally dry tongue. Marcus held the bowl up to him, and Aro greedily drank it, lapping at it like a cat drinking milk from a saucer. But as soon as the blood hit his tongue, Aro hissed. It was warm and bitter, and it burned like acid. Whoever or what ever the blood was from, it was tainted with something. Aro choked and coughed, spitting it out onto the floor. His vision began to blur again, his ears ringing. He looked into Marcus's sneering face as the room seemed to get smaller and darker, colors blurring together.

"Blood from a drug user is awful, eh, brother?" Marcus asked. "Enjoy your alone time."

He left the room as the hallucinations began to start. Everywhere Aro looked he saw fire, burning so hot it felt like his skin would melt. He heard distorted voices mocking him, yelling obscenities. He felt waves of pain roll through his stomach, his throat contracting as he vomited. His eyes welled with tears. He heard Peter's voice, calling out to him, begging for help. Aro tried to answer, but he couldn't stop coughing. Peter suddenly, somehow, appeared in front of him. Aro relaxed at first, until he realized that something was different. Peter's skin was white as marble, his eyes no longer brown, but a deep, deep red. His mouth was slick with blood. Two large wounds oozed on his neck as he glared at Aro with hurt and anger.

"You turned me," he spat venomously. "How could you do that to me?"

"W-what?" Aro coughed. "No, Peter. It wasn't m-me, my love. I would n-never do that to you!"

"Bullshit!" Peter hissed. "You did this so that I'd stay with you forever, didn't you? Admit it!"

"I do want you to s-stay with me, Peter," Aro sobbed. "But I-I would never t-turn you!"

Peter snarled and turned his back on Aro, storming away. Aro tried to follow him, but his chains held him back. He sobbed in despair, and let the fire consume him.

....................  
When Marcus returned a little while later, Aro's form hung limply against the wall. His head was bowed, his hair a tangled veil around his face. Vomit was splattered on the floor in front of him. Marcus smiled and unlocked the cage, holding something behind his back. He stepped over the puddle of sick and stood in front of his bound brother.

"Are you still here, brother?" he asked.

Aro didn't move or make a sound. Marcus peered at him and saw his eyes were closed, his mouth slick with bile, cheeks tear-stained. Marcus hummed and slapped his brother across the face. Aro's whole body moved with the force of the blow, his chains clinking. He groaned and opened his eyes, looking at Marcus with sad eyes that looked more pink than red now. Marcus grinned and brought his other hand out from behind his back. He was holding Aro's framed picture of Peter. Aro whimpered at the sight of his lover, looking like himself instead of the awful, vampiric form from his hallucination.

"This is your pretty human, right?" Marcus sneered. "What's his name again?" He tapped his chin in a way mocking way. "It doesn't matter anyway. You won't be seeing him again."

He dropped Peter's picture to the ground and stepped on it. The glass crunched under his boots as he did so. Aro's eyes welled with tears again, but he made no other sound.

"Looks like I've finally broken you, brother," Marcus purred. "Happened quicker than I expected to be honest." He jerked Aro's chin up so that their eyes met. Aro looked away with a whimper.

"We'll be spending a lot of time together now, Aro," Marcus said. "You might as well get used to it."

Aro wanted to spit at him, snarl, but he had no energy. Marcus laughed and shoved Aro's face away, but as he did a distant noise made him freeze. Even Aro could hear it-the faint sounds of yelling, fighting. Marcus snarled and turned away from Aro.

"What the hell is that?" he growled.

The door to the chamber suddenly burst open, and one Marcus's cronies rushed into the room. His cloak was torn and tattered, his mouth bloody, his eyes wide and black.

"What's happening, Leon?" Marcus demanded.

"Sulpicia," Leon gasped. "She and some of the others are storming the area. They've come for Aro."

"Dammit," Marcus snarled. "Get back out there and hold your grounds. Nobody gets into this chamber!"

Leon nodded and rushed off. Marcus followed, closing the cell door behind him and locking it again.

"Don't get your hopes up, brother," he said.

He walked away and Aro bowed his head again, feeling weak and sick. He could here the fighting taking place outside, but he drowned it out as he lost consciousness once again.


	8. Chapter 8

Sulpicia cut down another of Marcus' crones and kept running. Around her, fighting raged, filling the air with screams and yells of pain and blood-lust. She was lucky that even though Marcus had convinced several members of their family to aid him, many had stayed behind, loyal still to Aro. Sulpicia hoped that she wasn't too late. It had been two days since Aro had been captured, and she shuddered at the thought of what sort of horrible things Marcus had subjected her former mate to. She reached the entrance to the abandoned manor that Marcus had been hiding out in and kicked open the heavy wooden door. The inside of the manor was dark and neat, but had no other visible entrances. Sulpicia slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

"Aro?" she called out tentatively. "Aro, where are you?"

There was no answer, and it worried her that she couldn't sense him. She lowered the hood of her cloak and stepped further into the room. As she reached the center, however, she heard an angry snarl as her skin prickled with awareness. Sulpicia whipped around as Marcus lunged at her, his eyes flashing murderously. She quickly dodged him and he flew past, only to turn around and face her, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. 

"Where is Aro?" Sulpicia demanded. "What have you done to him?"

"It doesn't matter," Marcus snarled. "I've broken his mind. He is nothing but a shell now."

Sulpicia growled and surged toward him, slamming him into the wall by his neck. He grabbed her wrists and twisted them off his throat, throwing her into a table. It splintered and broke apart when Sulpicia hit it. She quickly got back up, though, just as Marcus tossed a chair in her direction. She ducked and lunged at him again, tackling his legs and sending them both sprawling across the stone floor. They fought tooth and nail, rolling until Sulpicia pinned the other vampire to the floor. She gripped his throat tightly and hit his face over and over again. Blood gushed from his mouth as she knocked his teeth loose and split his lip open. 

"Where is Aro?" she yelled between blows. "Tell me where he is!"

Marcus coughed and spat out several chipped and broken teeth. He laughed. That infuriated Sulpicia, so she hauled up him off the floor and slammed him into the wall again. Cracks appeared across the wall as she placed her face close to Marcus', staring into his eyes.

"Where is Aro?" she asked quietly. "Do not make me ask you again."

Marcus cackled again and tossed his head to the left. Sulpicia followed his gaze and could just make out a door, looking like the entrance to a basement. She punched Marcus square in the jaw, knocking him unconscious, and stalked over to the door. It was locked with numerous chains, but she broke them like they were made of tissue paper. She opened the door and descended the spiral staircase, her keen eyes scanning the shadows. She reached the bottom of the stairs and cringed. Smells of sickness and dried blood filled the air. Sulpicia saw a table packed with tools and weapons-curved daggers, whips, hammers, maces, a drill, and so many other awful things. Many of the weapons were caked with dried blood. Sulpicia held back a sob and stepped closer, then spotted the cell against the far wall. A limp figure shackled above the floor was inside, not moving or making any sound at all.

"Aro?" Sulpicia asked, darting toward the cell and gripping the bars.

The figure didn't move. She broke the lock on the door and entered the cell. Old hay and puddles of blood and vomit stained the floor. Sulpicia reached the figure and gasped. It was Aro, but he looked horrible. His long dark hair was tangled and matted. Scars of varying lengths and widths crisscrossed his torso. Cuts still oozing blood marked his ribcage and his chest. His head was bowed, his hair obscuring his face. Sulpicia reached out and very gently brushed it away. Aro's face was more or less untouched, but his mouth was slick with bile, his lips cracked. His eyes were closed, but he flinched at Sulpicia's touch. 

"Aro, can you hear me?" she asked.

He didn't reply. She quickly reached up and broke the chains binding his wrists, carefully lowering him to the floor. His back was scraped red and raw, long cuts from the whip still trying to heal. He still made no sound as Sulpicia touched him, not understanding why he wasn't healing.

"Aro, can you hear me?" she asked. 

When he still made no reply, she bit her lip and carefully picked him up, placing him over her shoulder. She walked out of the cell and up the stairs. When she entered the main room, Marcus had regained consciousness, but still remained on the floor. He smirked at Sulpicia when he saw her carrying Aro.

"There is nothing left for you to save now," he said. "He is but a weak shell. Not fit to lead the Volturi."

Sulpicia clenched a fist and stormed over to him.

"You are not fit to lead the Volturi," she growled.

She grabbed his neck so quick he had no time to react. She squeezed harder and harder until she felt his neck snap like a tree branch. He went limp and slumped to the ground, finally gone for good. Sulpicia walked out of the manor, still cradling Aro gently.

..........................  
Aro groaned and struggled to open his eyes. Everything ached, and his skin felt warm and tight. Somebody gently smoothed his hair back and made soothing sounds as they patted his face with a cold cloth. He made another attempt to open his eyes and could just make out a blurry figure.

"Peter?" he asked, his voice dry and rough.

The figure shook their head, and he blinked. Sulpicia came into view, relief filling her eyes when she saw he was awake. 

"You're awake," she said. "How do you feel?"

"Weak," Aro answered. "Everything hurts."

"You've been through a lot the past two days," Sulpicia told him, withdrawing the cloth and dipping into a bowl of water. "We gave you some purer blood to help clear the drugs out of your system, so your wounds are healing. But you will feel weak for a few days."

Aro sighed and laid back on the pillow. He licked his lips as he stared at the ceiling, which he now recognized as his bedroom. He didn't remember much after he'd lost consciousness, only the raw pain of the vision of Peter accusing him of turning him into a vampire. Wait a minute. Aro sat up and looked at Sulpicia.

"Did you send the necklace to him?" he croaked.

"Yes," Sulpicia answered. "He should receive it tomorrow."

"Have you heard from him?" he asked hopefully.

Her expression turned sad. "No, I'm sorry. I haven't heard from him. But as soon as he calls, I will let you speak with him, alright?"

Aro nodded and laid back down, feeling incredibly tired for the first time in centuries. He didn't fight it as his eyes closed, his mind full of Peter, wearing a gold and ruby necklace proudly around his neck.


	9. Chapter 9

Peter was in hell. That much he knew. When Jerry wasn't keeping him shackled in that creepy basement, he was forcing Peter to bury the belongings or bodies of his victims, which Peter had a hard time doing because of his injuries. Every breath made pain rip through his chest, every sudden movement was agony. He couldn't sleep either. Nightmares tormented him every night. Every time he looked at Jerry, he thought of his parents. Jerry would stare back at him, a smirk on his face like he knew what Peter was thinking. When Peter was alone, he kept trying to figure out a way to escape, or at least find a way to contact either Charley and Amy, or Aro, who he hadn't spoken to in three days. Three days? That was when that package Aro had mentioned was supposed to arrive. Peter had been guessing what it could be ever since his lover had left.

Right now, Peter was in the backyard of the small house Jerry had been hiding out in. It was out in the middle of the desert, on the outskirts of Vegas. The yard was large and surrounded by a high wooden fence wreathed in barbed wire. Peter had actually tried to jump the fence the other day, but Jerry had stopped him and nearly broke his other ribs in the process. Jerry wasn't around at the moment, but he'd given Peter instructions to bury the belongings of his latest victim, a hooker he'd lured to the house earlier that night. Peter wiped the sweat off his brow and kept digging, his jeans and shirt filthy and torn. His hair was matted and tangled, but the cut of his head had finally started to heal. When the hole was big enough, he kicked in the various items the hooker had had with her-her makeup bag, her wallet, her purse, which Jerry had already gone through and found her phone, which he then crushed. Peter sighed in exhaustion and leaned against the shovel, panting. He was hoping that Charley and Amy were looking for him, or maybe they'd contacted Aro somehow.

'Aro,' Peter thought sadly. 

If he were honest with himself, his thoughts and memories about his lover were the only things keeping him sane. He missed the vampire more than he'd thought he would. Sometimes thinking about the way he would hold Peter at night and stroke his hair helped him sleep without any nightmares. Peter groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair. He'd give anything just to hear Aro's voice again. He began to fill the hole again when something made him stop. 

"What the hell?" he murmured.

He looked around before crouching on the grass and reaching into the hole. He pulled out a large, very old looking piece of wood, flecked with dirt. It felt smooth and heavy in Peter's hand. He wasn't sure what kind of wood it was or even what it was doing there, but maybe this could be of use if he could sharpen it somehow. He hastily shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans and continued to fill the hole. He was just finishing when Jerry swaggered onto the back porch, shirtless and wearing black jeans. Even from a distance, Peter could see the red smeared across his lips. 

"You done?" Jerry called.

"Yes," Peter answered back, keeping his tone even. He'd learned that if he took on an angry voice, that earned him no food or water for twenty-four hours. 

He walked across the yard with the shovel propped against his shoulder. Jerry's eyes were dark and glazed from his recent feeding. Peter suppressed a shiver and stared at the floor. 

"Your dinner is waiting downstairs," Jerry said. "Go down there and chain yourself up."

Peter nodded, placed the shovel aside, and moved past the vampire into the house, which was large but sparse, and a lot nicer than Peter's current accommodations in the basement. He quickly descended the stairs and approached the thin mattress in the corner. He sat down on it and fastened the chains around his ankles. He'd tried to avoid doing that once, and Jerry had punished him by punching him repeatedly in his broken, bruised ribs. Now Peter knew better than to test the vampire's temper. He secured the chains and turned toward the plate of food waiting for him. It was just some slices of plain bread and a glass of water, but he was too hungry to care and started eating. When he was finished, he sighed and laid back on the mattress, his restraints rattling. 

"What a fucking mess," he said to himself.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the chunk of wood, staring at it, wondering how to sharpen it. It wasn't like he had a knife or anything, and he wasn't a bloody beaver. He growled and scraped one end of the wood across the brick floor. The sound was loud and hair-raising.

"Fuck," he cursed, covering his ear. 

He sat up and looked at the wood. Suddenly, he had an idea. He turned and faced the wall, rough brick just like the floor. He carefully placed one end of the wood against the wall and scraped it very gently. The sound was less obvious, so he kept going. With enough time and luck, he'd be able to sharpen the wood into a stake. He would just have to hide it from Jerry until it was ready to be used. Luckily, Jerry had a tendency to be sluggish after a feeding, so he would hopefully leave Peter alone for a while. He kept going until his arm got tired and he had to stop. When he looked at the wood, he could see that it was beginning to take on a sharper point.

"Fuck, yes," Peter whispered. 

He slipped the wood under his mattress and laid back down, arms tucked under his head. He was bone-tired, but was afraid to sleep, afraid of the nightmares. 

"Think of Aro," he told himself.

He closed his eyes and focused on his lover. Aro's familiar face appeared in his mind-his smooth, cool skin that felt amazing against Peter's, his neat dark hair swept back, his crimson eyes and perfect red lips pulled into a smile. 

"How I adore you, Peter," Aro's voice purred. "I love you so much."

Peter felt himself blush at the comment. He felt slightly guilty about the fact that he would hesitate before he told Aro that he loved him. He wasn't sure if he ever would be able to say it with no hesitance. 

At some point, Peter must have fallen asleep, because he startled awake to the sound of something being dropped on the floor beside him. He snapped upright and saw Jerry standing a few feet away, still shirtless, but his mouth was clean and his eyes were normal once again. The thing he'd dropped was a manila envelope, about the size of of book. Peter's name and address was printed on one side of it.

"What the hell?" Peter asked, looking up at Jerry.

"I've been collecting your mail from your place," Jerry explained. "And I put a note on your door that says you've gone out of town for a while. Your friends must be dumber than I remember because if they didn't believe that letter, they'd have found you by now."

Peter bit back a retort and reached for the package. His heart lurched when he saw that the return address was in both Italian and English. This had to be the package Aro had told him to expect. He hesitated in opening it because Jerry was still in the room.

"Don't stop on my account," the vampire said.

Peter slit open the envelope with his fingernail and reached inside. He pulled out a flat box of dark red velvet. He opened it and stopped breathing for a second. Laying against the black velvet inside of the box was beautiful golden necklace that looked exactly like Aro's. There was a piece of crisp parchment, sealed with crimson wax. Peter's hand was shaking as he picked up the parchment and carefully broke the wax seal. He gratefully heard Jerry leave the room as he began to read the letter, which had been written in Aro's perfect handwriting.

'My dear Peter,

I will still be in Italy when you receive this. As I'm sure you know, I am very much in love with you. I've never loved anyone like this, no offense to Sulpicia. I was drawn from you from the first time we met, and I know you were too. I understand how hard it must be for you to love me, which is why I've chosen to ask you this question this way, as to not overwhelm you and give you time to think it over. I know you are a mortal and I am not, but I love you and respect your choice to not be immortal. So, if you are willing, will you spend the rest of your life with me? Will you marry me, Peter Vincent?-Sincerely yours, Aro Volturi'

Tears filled Peter's eyes and dripped down his face onto the letter. He picked up the gold necklace, feeling how cool yet light it was, and carefully put it around his neck. It hung just above his heart, a solid and reassuring weight.

"I will marry you, Aro," Peter whispered. "As soon as I kill this son of a bitch."


	10. Chapter 10

Sulpicia watched Aro rest. While it was true that vampires didn't sleep, in very weakened states they entered a coma of sorts, which allowed them to focus all their powers on repairing the damage. In Aro's case, his body was trying to rid itself if the drugs Marcus had been injecting him with, as well as work with the purer blood Sulpicia had given him to cleanse out the tainted blood he had ingested. Some vampires even dreamed when they were in that state, and Sulpicia could tell from the slight smile on Aro's lips that he was dreaming of Peter. She wondered how the hunter was doing. Aro had told her that he'd only spoken to Peter once during his capture and hadn't heard from him since. Sulpicia had always supported their relationship, especially after Peter had risked his life to save Aro a month ago. She was also supportive of Aro's plan of marrying him.

She had sent the necklace to Peter's address while Aro had still been captive, so she hoped that he'd received it by now. But she couldn't help but think that Peter would say no. While it was obvious that he loved Aro, he just didn't seem like the type to commit to someone like that. The last thing she wanted was to see either of them get their heart broken. Aro shifted around in bed, turning his head more to the side, his lips twitching like he was trying to suppress a laugh. His eyes crinkled as he bared his neck. Sulpicia held back a laugh of her own. Suddenly, a loud ringing sound pierced the air and she jumped up from her chair. She looked around and realized that it was coming from Aro's clothes, which were folded atop his dresser. She quickly went over to the dresser and rummaged around in the pockets until she found Aro's cellphone. It had a crack across the screen, obscuring the name of whoever was calling. Sulpicia answered so the ringing wouldn't disturb Aro.

"Hello?" she asked quietly.

"You're not Aro," came the voice of young man. He had no accent, so Sulpicia knew it wasn't Peter.

"No, my name is Sulpicia," she said. "I'm afraid he's..." She glanced at Aro's bed. "Unavailable, at the moment."

The young man muttered a curse, and Sulpicia could hear the voice of young woman cursing as well.

"Who are you?" Sulpicia asked.

"My name's Charley," the man replied. "Me and my girlfriend Amy are Peter's friends."

"How is Peter?" Sulpicia inquired.

"He's missing," Charley replied worriedly.

Sulpicia gripped the phone tighter. "What do you mean he's missing?"

"We went to a bar a few days ago for drinks and to see a band perform," Charley explained. "Peter left because there was a guy hitting on him even after he said he was seeing someone. That was the last time we saw him. We went to his apartment and there was note on his door saying he'd gone out of town for awhile, but I didn't believe it was from him. So we kind of broke in and saw signs of a struggle, and there was blood on the floor."

Sulpicia chewed her bottom lip. No wonder Peter hadn't called. Who knew what sort of trouble he was in? 

"Do you have any idea who might've taken him?" she asked.

"We have only one theory," Charley answered. "But I don't know how likely it is that a vampire we killed years ago could somehow come back and kidnap Peter."

"You'd be surprised how vampires can hold grudges," Sulpicia told him. "Even after they're killed."

"In that case, I think I know who might've taken Peter," Charley mused. "Jerry Daindrige, a vampire we fought years ago. He's also the one who killed Peter's parents."

Sulpicia had heard that story from Peter before. It was why he hated vampires for so long. 

"Do you have any idea where Jerry would take Peter?" she asked.

"No idea," Charley confessed. "But we'll start looking. Can you pass this along to Aro?"

"Yes, of course," Sulpicia agreed. 

Charley hung up, and she set the phone down and sighed. She now had two things to worry about: Aro's recovery and Peter being kidnapped. A low groan broke into her thoughts suddenly, and she turned around. Aro was sitting up in bed, pushing the heavy blanket off, his movements sluggish and groggy. He swung his legs to the floor and Sulpicia rushed over to him.

"Aro, don't get up," she said, putting a hand on his chest. "You're still too weak."

"Peter needs me," Aro protested, trying to stand. "I have to help him."

He rose to his feet and crumpled instantly to the ground on his hands and knees. His hair hung across his face, his red eyes bright with pain. His skin was still too warm for Sulpicia's liking as she guided him back into bed, his body clad only in his underwear.

"Peter's friends are looking for him," Sulpicia told him soothingly. "They'll find him. You need to rest more."

"I have to find him," Aro pleaded, gripping her arm. "Please, Sulpicia. Let me fly back to Vegas."

"Aro, you can't," Sulpicia whispered. "You're in no condition to fly or do anything stressful."

Tears brightened in Aro's crimson eyes. He looked so vulnerable and sad. Sulpicia stroked his hair back gently. 

"Peter can handle himself," she said. "We both know that."

Aro whimpered and closed his eyes, tears dripping down his pale cheeks. It didn't take long until he was silent and still once again as he went back into the coma, his expression troubled. Sulpicia wiped his tears away. She knew how badly he wanted to fly back to Vegas, back to Peter, but in his condition he wouldn't be able to defend himself if he encountered danger. Aro clenched the blanket in his fist, his face twisted in anguish. Sulpicia bit her lip and caressed his face. Perhaps she could go to Vegas, but she was reluctant to leave him. Suddenly, Aro awoke and began to cough raggedly. 

"I-I need blood," he gasped. "T-the drug is s-still fighting m-me."

"Alright, I'll be right back," Sulpicia said quickly.

She left the room, shutting the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, Aro stopped coughing, a slight smile on his lips. He got out of bed on shaky legs and hastily got dressed, then moved toward the far corner of his room. He ran his hand along the rough stone until he found what he was looking for. He pushed on the wall and a section of it shifted and opened up, revealing a dark staircase. Aro slipped inside, making sure the entrance closed behind him, and descended the stairs quickly. He still felt weak, his skin still burning with fever and pain, but he pushed that aside. Peter, his lover, his mate, needed him.


	11. Chapter 11

Peter was sharpening his piece of wood against the wall when he heard the door to the basement unlatch and open. Quickly, he shoved the wood under his mattress and tried to maintain nonchalance as Jerry entered the room. He'd been resting from his most recent feeding an hour ago, and Peter had just got done burying the belongings of the latest victim-some poor hitchhiker Jerry had found in the desert. Peter had actually heard the guy put up a fight before Jerry killed him. The hunter shivered and reached up to his neck, twirling the gold necklace that rested against his throat. It had been another day since he'd been kidnapped, and so far, it looked as if nobody was looking for him. Peter didn't think Charley and Amy had given up on him, and he clung to hope that somehow, they'd contacted Aro and that he was on his way back to Vegas. His return was the one thing keeping Peter grounded, that and the necklace that Peter refused to take off, even when he slept. He slept with the note Aro had sent him under his pillow. He'd read it several times, eager to memorize every word, every way Aro wrote a certain letter, the way he passionately wrote his love for Peter down on the crisp parchment.

"Have I ever told you about how much you look like your father?" Jerry suddenly asked, jolting Peter out of his thoughts.

He snapped his eyes up to look at the vampire. He was sitting in a chair a few feet from where Peter was shackled on the ground, a smirk stretching his lips. Peter clenched a fist against his thigh and stayed quiet, knowing that Jerry was just goading him into losing his temper. When he didn't answer, Jerry continued, his voice laced with mirth.

"You know I picked your family kind of on accident?" he said. "I'd had my eyes set on this other family, but then I saw you guys out and about one day. What a titchy thing you were, Peter."

Peter sank his teeth into his bottom lip, his clenched hands shaking. His heart was pounding, anger boiling under the surface. Jerry kept talking. 

"Breaking into your house was easier than I thought," he continued. "You guys weren't as paranoid about vampires as some of the others in the village. All I had to do was knock on the door, and your sweet mother, bless her, let me in immediately, didn't she? She was such a sweet lady. You have her eyes, you know."

Peter's ears were ringing, his breathing getting quicker. He tightened his grip on the mattress, his knuckles white. 

"You knew something was different about me though," Jerry recalled. "Such an inquisitive thing you were at that age. You said it aloud that you thought I was a monster, and your father reprimanded you, didn't he? Told you it wasn't nice to say things like that." The vampire's eyes flashed. "But you were right, weren't you? Because after you said that, your mother told you to go and get a drink for your guest, and that was when I struck, eh?"

Memories flashed through Peter's mind like a movie on fast-forward. He heard his mother screaming, his father cursing as snarls and hisses filled the air. His mother burst into the kitchen, her sweater torn, blood oozing from a cut on her temple. She scooped Peter up off the ground and hid him away in the closest in the hallway. 

"Stay here, Peter," she'd told him. "Stay here and don't come out till Mummy or Daddy come to get you."

She shut the door and locked it, then rushed away. Peter huddled in the darkness, his hands over his ears, trying to muffle the sounds of the fighting going on. Eventually, the sounds died off, but nobody ever came to get Peter. He stayed in the closet for hours, until he found the courage to break the locked door and carefully go back out to the living room. There was broken furniture all over the place, curtains ripped down, tables overturned. Peter was shaking when he saw his father's body slumped on the kitchen floor, blood painting the ground beneath him scarlet. His mother was crumpled against the wall, his head bowed, her long hair obscuring her face. Her brown eyes, just like Peter's, were dull and cloudy. Blood pulsed from a gaping wound in her neck. 

"Your mother's blood tasted different than your father's," Jerry recalled. "Sweet just like she was, eh?"

Peter snapped. He yanked off his restraints and pulled the piece of wood out from under his mattress, the tip now honed to a deadly sharpness. He lunged at Jerry, who was so shocked that he didn't get a chance to move before the hunter knocked his chair backwards. They both rolled across the floor, Peter biting back the pain as his bruised, broken ribs twinged. Jerry shoved him off and away. snarling, his face distorting. Peter slid across the floor, his shirt and jeans tearing open even more. his skin scraped red and raw. The makeshift stake skidded out of his hand, and he scrambled to grab it. Jerry latched onto his ankle, pulling him away when his fingers just brushed against the wood. 

"I've always wondered what your blood would taste like," the vampire snarled, pinning Peter to ground with his foot on his throat. 

"Fuck you," Peter snapped, his chest on fire.

Jerry growled and leaned down, his fangs inches from tearing Peters neck open. His saliva dripped down onto the hunter's face, his breath hot and smelling like death. Peter closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Suddenly, a loud alarm pierced the air, like a security system breach. 

"What the fuck?" Jerry snarled. "Who the hell set off my security system?"

Seizing the moment, Peter grabbed the stake and swept Jerry's legs out from under him. The vampire yelled out in surprise as he tumbled to the floor, and Peter straddled his waist, the stake aimed right over Jerry's chest.

"Fucking die, you sick son of a bitch," he growled, bringing the weapon down.

Jerry yowled as the wood sunk into his flesh, piercing his heart. Peter kept stabbing him, feeling blood wash warm and wet across his skin. Eventually, he stopped, out of breath. Jerry's body was limp and lifeless, dead eyes like a shark's staring up at the ceiling. His corpse convulsed like it had been shocked before it seized up and crumpled to ashes. Finally, he was gone for good. Peter sighed, his whole body aching, feeling more tired than he'd ever been in his life. The alarm kept screaming, until someone or something shut it off. Peter jumped when he heard the door to the basement unlocking again.

"Peter?" a familiar voice called from the stairs. "Can you hear me?"

That voice. Peter knew who it was instantly.

"Charley?" he called back. "I'm here."

Footsteps sounded as two people hastily made their way down the stairs. Charley and Amy entered the basement, armed to the teeth with stakes, flasks of holy water, crossbows. Peter had never been more relieved to see them. They both gasped when they saw him, however, and Peter could only imagine what a sorry state he must look like-his clothes torn and stained with dirt and blood, his hair matted, his skin scraped raw, his chest aching with each breath. 

"You're alive," Charley exclaimed, rushing toward him and hugging him tightly. "Thank God you're alive."

"We've been so worried," Amy said, hugging him as well. 

"It's good to see you guys too," Peter told them, fighting back tears. "How did you find me?"

"We started tracking a bunch of disappearances on the news," Charley explained. "People go missing in the desert all the time, but never in huge numbers like lately. We knew that Jerry had to be behind those disappearances and yours as well."

"Where is he?" Amy asked suddenly.

"Right there," Peter replied, pointing to the pile of ashes on the ground.

"You killed him?" Charley asked, eyes wide. "How?"

"It's a long story," Peter said. "Can we get the hell out of here first, though?"

"Good idea," Charley said. "Let's go."

They walked upstairs out of the basement and outside. Peter saw Charley's car in the driveway, as well as the broken window that had set off the security alarm. They climbed into the car, Amy and Charley up front while Peter crawled into the back seat and sighed. He stretched out across the seat and fell asleep before Charley could even start the car.

An hour later, Peter was back in his penthouse, showered and dressed in different clothes, explaining to Charley and Amy what had happened to him over the last few days under Jerry's capture. By the time he finished, he sighed and took a deep drink of his Scotch. Silence followed his story until Amy asked a question.

"Where'd you get that necklace?" she asked.

Peter smiled and twirled the pendant around on his finger. "It's from Aro," he answered. "He asked me to marry him."

Charley and Amy's eyes widened and their jaws dropped in unison. Peter laughed at their reactions. 

"Are you going to?" Amy asked. 

"Yes," Peter answered. "As soon as he comes back from Italy, I'll say yes to him in person."

"That's amazing," Charley said. "How did he ask you?"

"He sent me a letter," Peter said, taking it out of his pocket and showing it to them.   
\\\  
"Who proposes using a letter?" Charley asked.

"My fiance does," Peter answered. 

"Congratulations," Amy said with a smile. "But there's something I think you should know."

Peter's heart clenched in his chest. "What?"

"When you first went missing, we tried to call Aro," Charley explained. "A woman named Sulpicia answered his phone told us that he was unavailable."

"What?" Peter asked. "Did she say why?"

"No," Amy said. "We told her that we would start looking for you in the meantime, and she told us that she pass our message along to Aro. Have you spoken to him at all since he left?"

"Only once," Peter replied, running a hand through his hair. "I spoke to him the night I was kidnapped, before I met you guys at the bar. He sounded off, like he was upset or in pain."

He chewed his bottom lip anxiously. What if Aro was in danger? Amy seemed to sense his worry, because she reached over and patted his hand.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," she said. "Aro knows how to handle himself. For all we know he's on his way back right now."

"You're probably right," Peter agreed. "I'll try and call him later."

"Good idea," Charley said. "But you should rest up more though. You've been through Hell and back."

"That's a good idea," Peter said. "I'll see you guys later, yeah?"

They nodded and said goodbye, and soon, Peter was alone again. He went into his bedroom and flopped down onto his bed with a sigh. The pillow that Aro usually occupied still smelled like him-the crisp scent of his hair and the musk of his skin. Peter grabbed his bat and fell asleep instantly, finally able to relax as he dreamed about saying yes to Aro.


	12. Chapter 12

Aro had never felt so weak in his life. While he normally got strange looks when he was in public anyway, what with his red eyes and white skin and black designer clothes, today the humans were being especially watchful. Probably because he looked like he was on the verge of collapsing. He was moving through the crowded airport as fast as his weak state would allow. His whole body still ached with pain, his skin hot under his clothes, his mouth dry. People watched him, some even tried to offer help when he stumbled, but he brushed them away. Peter was the only thing on his mind. He hadn't looked at his phone since he'd landed hours ago, so he could only imagine the amount of missed calls and messages Sulpicia had left him already. It was eleven at night in Vegas now, but the city was still alive with activity as Aro stepped out onto the street outside the airport. The night air was welcome and cool against his feverish skin, tossing his long black hair around. He hailed and cab and quickly got inside, telling the driver Peter's address. 

The driver gave him an odd look, possibly finding it odd that Aro had no luggage and looked as ill as he felt. He started the cab anyway, though, and started driving. Aro pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window, closing his eyes, trying to center himself. His body was screaming at him to rest, to ease back into the healing state and regain his strength, but he pushed the urge away. He licked his lips, craving blood of any kind. What if he attacked someone in this state? He groaned and clenched his fist against his thigh, forcing his blood craving down to be dealt with later. His plan now was to look around Peter's apartment, assess the damage and see if there were any clues as to where Peter was. The cab lurched to a stop, snapping Aro out of his reverie. They were outside Peter's building. Aro could see that the lights were off in the penthouse, and he gulped. He hastily paid the driver and exited the cab, his legs heavy, his muscles like wet sandbags. He entered the lobby, got in the elevator, and took up to Peter's floor. The vampire leaned against the elevator wall, which was the only thing keeping him standing at that point. The elevator stopped and dinged as the door opened. Aro braced himself and peeled himself off the wall.

"Dammit," he cursed as he fell to one knee, his hair falling around his face.

He was two feet from Peter's door. The vampire growled in determination and stood up again, moving toward the door. He reached it, noticing the broken lock, the cracked glass panes along the edge. He knocked once, then twice, hard. His vision was getting blurry. He heard someone on the other side of the door, grumbling about it being fucking midnight already. The door swung open, and despite Aro's hazy vision, he was able to see that it was Peter, looking alive and healthy, standing in the doorway. He smiled when he saw Aro, but it was quickly replaced with concern, his brow furrowing with worry.

"Aro?" he asked, his voice like the smoothest melody. "Aro, are you okay?"

Aro reached out, gripped his lover's shirt, eyes exploring his face. His brown eyes were dark with worry, his silky hair messy, like he'd just gotten out of bed. His skin was warm through his T-shirt, his heart beating steadily. His perfect lips formed a question that Aro couldn't hear, as his ears were ringing.

"Peter," Aro whispered, before his vision went black.

"Are you sure he's going to be okay?" Peter's voice sounded distressed. 

Aro grunted softly, his eyes opening slowly. The ceiling of Peter's bedroom came into view. He propped himself up on one elbow, the silk sheets soft against his bare skin. Did Peter undress him? Aro looked around. Peter's room was still the same, his bed still comfortable, his bat sitting on the pillow nearby. The clock on the nightstand now showed it was three in the morning. He could hear Peter's voice on the other side of the closed bedroom door, talking on his phone by the sound of things. Aro attempted to sit up, noticing that his skin no longer felt warm and that his body no longer ached. He was just pushing the heavy black duvet off his body when the bedroom door opened and Peter entered the room, stuffing his phone into his jeans pocket. He froze when he saw that Aro was awake. They stared at each other, red eyes meeting brown, before the hunter spoke first.

"You fucking idiot," he said, before throwing himself at Aro, knocking the vampire backward against the pillows, kissing him deeply.

Aro froze up momentarily, his eyes widening before he relaxed and kissed Peter back hungrily. He wrapped his arms the hunter, holding his warm body close, tasting his lips, smelling his scent. His heart was racing. The kept kissing, Aro flat on his back, Peter on top of him, hands on either side of the vampire's head. Something cold brushed against Aro's bare chest and he pulled out of the kiss in surprise. Hanging from Peter's neck, over his shirt, was a gold and ruby necklace, glinting in the Vegas lights shining in from the windows. He touched it gently in awe.

"You're wearing it," he whispered, looking up at Peter.

The hunter rolled his eyes affectionately. "Of course, I'm wearing it, you idiot."

He sat back, straddling Aro's waist. Aro sat up and placed his hands on his lover's slender hips, holding him gently.

"I don't understand," he said. "I overheard your friends telling Sulpicia that you'd been kidnapped. What happened?"

"I killed him," Peter answered simply. "Again."

"Again?" Aro asked. 

"It was Jerry," Peter explained. "The vampire that killed my parents, the one me and Charley thought we killed years ago. He followed me home and broke in, knocked me out and kept me hostage for a few days. I sharpened an old piece of wood and killed him yesterday just as Amy and Charley arrived. They distracted him, allowing me to kill the bastard."

"I see," Aro said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you."

"According to Sulpicia, you had your own problems," Peter replied, his tone holding back anger. "Like the fact that you were still weak from being tortured and maimed by your own brother, yet you flew all the way here and then proceeded to collapse in my foyer!"

A couple tears welled up in Peter's eyes, dripping down his cheeks as his voice cracked. Aro frowned and reached up, tenderly wiping them away. He pressed his forehead to Peter's, the hunter's hands coming up to grip his wrists tightly. 

"I'm sorry, Peter," Aro murmured. "I didn't mean to frighten you, my love. I was just so worried about you that I didn't care about my own well-being."

"Please don't do that again," Peter whispered. "I love you."

If Aro had to breathe, he would have been breathless. His eyes widened as he looked at Peter, absorbing the lack of hesitance in the hunter's words. 

"I want to marry you, Aro," Peter said, his voice still quiet. "I want to spend the rest of my life calling you my husband."

Now Aro's eyes had tears in them. He kissed Peter again, firmly, lovingly, stroking those sharp cheekbones.

"I love you, Peter," Aro said. "I want to call you my husband as well." 

He touched the necklace on Peter's neck. "I thought about buying rings, but this seemed more appropriate."

"I like it," Peter said. "It's different."

He kissed Aro again. "Now, rest up. The sooner you do the sooner we can seal the deal."

Aro laughed and pulled Peter into him arms, hugging him close.


	13. Chapter 13

Peter nervously adjusted his necktie, making sure it was straight and that his necklace was standing out against it. He wore leather boots and pants, a white shirt underneath a crisp black tuxedo jacket. The tie was purple, making the necklace stand out sharply in its gold luster. His hair was smooth and neat for once, his eyes highlighted by some silver-tinged eyeliner. His black-painted nails flashed as he buttoned the jacket half-way up. He was a nervous wreck even though the ceremony was a fairly small one, just Charley and Amy and Sulpicia who had flown in from Italy. Peter let out a deep breath, hands gripping the edge of the vanity to steady them.

"Peter?" Amy asked from the other side of the door. "You ready?"

'As ready as I'll ever be,' Peter thought. At loud, he said, "Yeah, I'll be right out."

He reached over and picked up the black rose corsage on the vanity, pinning it to his right lapel. He took another deep breath, letting it out slowly as he opened the door. Amy stood on the other side, looking beautiful in silver strapless dress with matching heels. Her hair was curled and pinned back with a jewel-studded headband, her makeup seamlessly applied. She smiled at Peter when she saw him. 

"You look so handsome, Peter," she told him warmly.

"Thanks," Peter said, smoothing his hands across his shirt. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Amy replied. "How do you feel?"

"Nervous as hell," Peter admitted. "Excited, nervous, a little nauseous."

Amy laughed. "That's normal, Peter." She took his hands. "But don't worry. You can do this."

Peter smiled at her gratefully and nodded, linking his arm through hers. Together, they walked down the hall and around the corner. The wedding was taking place at a public garden a few miles outside Las Vegas. Aro had booked it for private use a week ago. As Amy and Peter turned the corner, his heart beating with each step, he saw Aro, waiting at the other end of the aisle, along with Sulpicia, who was officiating the ceremony, and Charley, Peter's best man. Sulpicia wore a black dress trimmed in red lace, and Charley wore a tux, though he kept fidgeting with the cuff-links. Aro, however, looked gorgeous under the twinkling lights on the archway he stood under. He wore a black-and-silver suit, his pale skin gleaming like marble. His silken black hair was combed back, strands catching the light just so. A red rose corsage was pinned to his left lapel, standing out like a beacon. His full red lips pulled up into a smile when he saw Peter.

"You look beautiful, my love," he said as Peter reached him.

He smiled, feeling a blush blooming across his face as Amy kissed his cheek. She walked away and stood next to Charley, quietly telling him to stop fidgeting. Aro smiled and held out his hands, covered by black gloves. Peter frowned at that.

"You can take those off," he told Aro. "You don't have to wear them around me anymore."

"Are you sure?" Aro asked.

Peter nodded. The vampire slipped the gloves off and tucked them away inside his jacket, then held his hands out again. Peter smiled and took them, interlacing their fingers. 

"I love you," Aro whispered.

"I love you too," Peter whispered back.

"Are you ready?" Sulpicia asked them.

They both nodded, and she smiled. 

"Aro," she said, turning to him, "do you take this human, Peter Vincent, to be husband, your mate?"

"Yes," Aro said. "I do."

Sulpicia turned to Peter next. "Do you, Peter, take Aro Volturi, to be your husband, your mate?"

"Yes, I do," Peter answered.

"Then, I pronounce you both husbands and mates," Sulpicia announced proudly. "You may kiss the groom."

Aro smirked and pulled Peter toward him. Their lips met in passionate kiss as Charley, Amy, and Sulpicia cheered. The kiss lasted for what felt like a lifetime, until they both parted so Peter could breathe. His brown eyes were full of love, but also burning with lust. 

"How soon can we get back to my place?" he whispered in Aro's ear.

"That won't be necessary," Aro whispered back. "I've booked a room for us at the Bellagio."

Peter's eyes widened. "Are you bloody serious?"

"Only the best for you, my dear," Aro said, eyes flashing mischievously.

Peter smiled and kissed his husband again, and certainly not for the last time.

As soon Peter opened the hotel room door, Aro swept the hunter off his feet into his arms. Peter yelped as he wound his arms around the vampire's neck.

"What are you doing?" he asked through a laugh.

"Carrying you over the threshold," Aro replied, kissing him as he stepped through the door and kicked it shut behind them. 

The room was large and spacious, the black-and-blue carpet a rich contrast to the cream-colored walls. There were two leather couches facing the TV and a faux fireplace. The bed had been made up with soft, white sheets, blue pillows and a matching duvet. Per Aro's request, there was a bottle of Champagne waiting in a bucket of ice on the nightstand, as well as bouquets of black and red roses. Aro placed Peter on one of the couches and grabbed the Champagne, popping the cork easily. Peter watched him with come-hither eyes as the vampire poured the alcohol and handed him a glass.

"Lowering my inhibitions, are we?" Peter asked, downing the drink in one swallow.

Aro smirked, eyes twinkling. "Never, my lovely. I am merely indulging you with the finest Champagne I could procure."

"It's nice," Peter admitted. "But you taste even better." He sat up on his knees, leaning over the back of the couch. "Come here."

Aro felt a jolt of lust coil through him and obeyed. He kissed Peter, lightly at first, before biting down on the hunter's bottom lip. Peter gasped, opening his mouth and letting Aro's tongue join his own, gripping the vampire's shoulders. Aro kicked off his dress shoes and climbed over the back of the couch, Peter stretching out on his back underneath him, still kissing. Aro loosened Peter's tie and tossed it away, followed by his jacket. He kissed down his husband's neck as he unbuttoned his white shirt.

"Fuck, yes," Peter hissed, tilting his head back to give Aro more access. 

Aro smirked against his chest and licked around a nipple, tugging at it gently with his teeth while rolling the other between his fingers. Peter's shirt joined his jacket and tie on the floor, along with the shoes the hunter hastily kicked off. His leather pants were incredibly tight, on the verge of being painful. He pulled on Aro's hair when the vampire bit down on his nipple, laving the mark he'd left with his tongue. 

"You're too dressed," Peter breathed, undoing Aro's tie. "I need to feel you."

"Peter," Aro moaned, tossing his jacket away.

Peter sealed their lips together as he unbuttoned Aro's black dress shirt. The fabric slipped off his shoulders, and the vampire moaned as Peter's warm hands ghosted across his cold skin. The hunter buried his face in his husband's neck, hands caressing his torso, his nipples, before reaching his belt. He rubbed the bulge there, heard Aro moan into their kiss. He deftly unbuckled it and lowered the zipper, lowering the fabric half-way down the vampire's thighs. Aro stood up and slid them and his underwear all the way off, leaving him just in his necklace, glinting against his pale skin. Peter licked his lips at the sight and began removing his own pants. Aro stepped over to help, kissing him again as they slid the tight garment off together, along with Peter's underwear. Once they were both naked, Aro picked up Peter again, gasping at the skin to skin contact, and carried him to the bed.

"You're so beautiful," Aro breathed, eyes roaming over every inch of Peter's body.

His face and chest were flushed pink, his cock hard and leaking against his smooth stomach, his lips swollen and red from the kisses. His necklace flashed on his chest, over his heart. Aro climbed onto the bed, kissing his way up Peter's right leg to his inner thigh. He nibbled the sensitive flesh, laving over the bites with his tongue to soothe them. Peter was moaning, rocking his hips urgently.

"Aro, please," he moaned. "I need you."

"I know, my love," Aro murmured. "I just want to savor tonight."

He reached Peter's cock and licked a stripe up the underside to the weeping head, tasting the bitter fluid. He took Peter's erection all the way into his mouth, licking and tracing the veins underneath the skin. Peter arched his back, moaning loudly, tangling a hand in Aro's long hair. Aro moaned, making his husband's breath hitch, and bobbed his head. Peter fisted the hand in his hair, urging him on. Aro sucked him for a long time, then Peter's moans got louder, his toes curling as heat curled in his belly.

"Aro, stop," he gasped. "I'm gonna come!"

Aro pulled off, a strand of drool hanging from his bottom lip. Peter's eyes were blown black by his pupils, his face deeply flushed. 

"I need you inside me," he said, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck me, Aro."

Aro growled and crawled up the bed, kissing Peter messily. He fumbled for the lube inside the bedside table and flicked the cap open. He slicked up his fingers, then caressed Peter's perfect ass. He circled the puckered entrance between those cheeks and eased in one finger up to the knuckle. Peter hissed at the stretch, gathering the sheets in his hands. It had been a few weeks since they'd last been intimate, more than enough time for him to get tight again.

"Relax, Peter," Aro whispered soothingly, stroking his leg. "I've got you, love."

He waited for Peter to get used to the stretch before adding another finger, scissoring them. His husband moaned, relaxing into the mattress. Aro kissed his thigh and added a third finger, brushing over that magic bundle of nerves. Peter yelled out, his cock jerking against his belly, a glob of fluid pearling on the head. He looked at Aro with burning eyes.

"Fuck me, Aro," he pleaded. "Claim me, make me yours."

Aro growled at the need in his husband's voice and withdrew his fingers, making Peter whine at the emptiness. Aro slicked up his cock and wrapped Peter's legs around his waist, hands on either side of his head. Peter wound his arms around Aro's shoulders, tangling in his hair. The tip of the vampire's cock was pressing against the hunter's hole.

"Are you ready?" Aro whispered.

"Yes," Peter said. "Take me, Aro."

The vampire kissed him and thrust into the human's tight heat. Peter moaned into the kiss, locking his ankles around Aro's waist, pulling him closer and deeper. Aro's thrusts started out slow but quickly sped up, hammering into Peter with force. Peter's moans and whimpers of pleasure only urged him on. The kept kissing the whole time, sloppily as Aro's movement started getting erratic. The bed was banging into the wall, adding to the noise of skin on skin, Peter's moaning and cursing, urging Aro to go harder. He all but screamed when Aro hit his prostate dead-on.

"Yes, Aro, there, again," he keened. "I'm so bloody close!"

"So am I," Aro moaned. He shifted his hips and bit down on the skin above Peter's collarbone. "Come for me, my husband."

Peter arched his back, his cock spurting warmth between there bellies. Aro gasped at the sensation of Peter tightening around him, at the sight of his husband wearing nothing but his necklace. He came deep inside of Peter, filling him, claiming him. He collapsed on to top of him, heard Peter's heavy breathing and his racing heart. The human kissed the vampire's neck lightly.

"I love you," he said.

Aro hummed and turned his head, smiling down at his hunter. "I adore you, my love."

He carefully pulled out, kissing Peter when he whimpered at the loss. They laid together for a few minutes, just holding each other, until Peter began kissing Aro's neck, nibbling his ear. Aro moaned at the feeling, his cock stirring to life again. Peter was hard again as well, his eyes dark and eager.

"Ready to go again?" he asked.

"You have but to ask, love," Aro purred, pulling Peter into a kiss.

The hunter climbed into Aro's lap, straddling him. He took the vampire's erection in hand and guided it inside his slick, open hole. Aro moaned, hands gripping Peter's slender hips. Peter braced his hands on Aro's chest, raising himself up and slamming back down. His necklace bounced against his chest, flashing in the dim light. Aro thrust up to meet his husband's movements, gripping his hips hard enough for bruises to form. Peter leaned down to kiss him as his bounce increased. Aro pulled him into an embrace, deepening the kiss as they both came for the second time that night. Peter slumped against Aro's chest, panting as the vampire stroked his sweaty hair. He lifted himself off the vampire's softening cock and cuddled against him, sighing. 

"Perhaps a shower is in order, dear?" Aro asked. 

"Good idea," Peter mumbled, not really wanting to leave the bed, but the drying seed on his skin was beginning to itch.

He climbed off the bed and headed toward the bathroom. Aro followed, lingering in the doorway, watching Peter turn on the shower. Bite marks stood out like drops of paint along his neck and chest. His hips were marred with finger-shaped bruises. He stepped into the shower, smirking at Aro over his shoulder.

"You just gonna stand there?" he asked.

Aro crossed the room and entered the shower, closing the door behind him. Peter smiled at him and kissed him under the warm spray. Aro purred and pushed Peter against the marble wall, holding his hips again. They made out passionately under the hot water, until they were both hard once again. Aro lifted Peter up off the ground and entered him again, moaning as seed from previous rounds eased his way. Peter moaned, tipping his head back against the wall as he wrapped his arms and legs around his husband, keeping him as close as possible. Aro's thrusts were gentle yet urgent, as were the kisses and bites he showered across Peter's neck and shoulders. Peter pulled him into a messy kiss, tugging on his wet dark hair. 

"I love you," he said between pecks.

"I love you too, dearheart," Aro proclaimed softly.

He came first, filling Peter again, and Peter soon followed, his come coating their bellies, only to be washed away by the water. Aro pulled out slowly and lowered Peter's legs to the floor, only to have to hold his husband steady. He turned off the water and carried Peter out, sitting him on the edge of the bathtub to dry him with a soft towel. Peter purred under the attention. Once they were both dry, Aro brought Peter back to bed and tucked him under the blue duvet, then crawled in beside the hunter. Instantly, Peter moved over and latched onto the vampire, nuzzling his cheek against his chest. 

"I love you, Aro," he whispered. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that."

"It's alright, Peter," Aro replied, stroking his hair. "That's in the past. What matters is that we're together now."

Peter hummed in agreement and fell asleep, his body warm and pliant against Aro's. Aro smiled, utterly more content than he'd ever been in centuries, and looked out the high windows of the Bellagio, at the glittering Vegas lights. There was nowhere else he'd rather be.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Mortality ! I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading!

Peter woke up more comfortable than he'd ever been in his life. He slowly blinked his eyes open, rubbing his face against the soft pillow beneath his head. The sheets were silky against his naked skin as he shifted to roll over onto his side. He sighed as he stretched out against the mattress, luxuriating in the feel of soft sheets and warm blankets. He was on the verge of falling asleep again when a hand appeared, carding gently through his messy hair.

"Good morning, my dear," Aro purred.

Peter smiled at the voice and rolled over, leaning into the touch, opening his eyes again. Aro was sitting up in bed, the blanket low across his hips, naked as Peter was. His long hair was a little messy from their escapades. His red eyes twinkled as he smiled, his necklace glittering in the sunlight shining in through the window. He leaned down to kiss Peter, cupping one side of his face in his hand. Peter sighed, gripping Aro's wrist, their lips moving easily against each other. Aro pulled away first, tracing the shape of Peter's lips with his thumb. 

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. "You know that, don't you?"

Peter snorted, feeling a blush rising high in his cheeks. "Only because you tell me almost everyday," he said. "You're a sap."

"I'm in love," Aro corrected. "Madly in love."

"Mad is right," Peter agreed. 

He crawled into Aro's lap, looping his arms around his vampire's neck, stroking his dark hair. Aro held Peter's hips, rubbing his thumbs into his hip bones. Peter leaned in close, lips mere inches from the vampire's.

"You're absolutely mad," he murmured. "Nobody in their right mind would marry me."

Aro smirked. "If I'm mad for marrying you, what does that make you, my dear?"

"Insane," Peter answered. "Insane and in love. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

He kissed Aro again, deeper this time. Aro moaned into the kiss, hands sliding from Peter's hips, up his bare back. His cock was stirring to life, nudging against Peter's ass. The hunter's hole was still slick but sensitive, and he inhaled sharply when Aro pressed one finger in.

"Are you alright?" the vampire asked, stopping.

"Sensitive," Peter replied. "But I'm okay. Keep going."

"No," Aro replied, withdrawing his finger. "I don't want to hurt you."

Peter whined in protest and Aro touched two fingers to his lips. 

"I never want to cause you pain, Peter," he murmured. "Only if you want me to will I do so."

Peter sighed and nodded. "Fine."

He shifted and felt that Aro was still hard, pressing firmly against his ass. The hunter smirked at his husband, brown eyes glinting playfully. 

"At least let me take care of that," he purred. "Will you let me do that for you?"

"Yes," Aro answered, his pupils getting larger.

Peter kissed him fiercely, biting down lightly on his bottom lip. He tossed the covers away from Aro's body and pushed on his chest, making him lie back against the pillows. Aro propped himself up on his elbows, moaning as Peter kissed and licked and nibbled his way down the vampire's smooth, pale body. He swirled his tongue around Aro's right nipple. teasing the bud with his teeth. Aro moaned at the sensation, arching his back. Peter smirked against his chest and kissed down that muscular stomach. He reached the vampire's cock and teasingly licked across the shaft, then stroked it idly, rubbing his thumb over the head, spreading the fluid around. Aro growled when Peter's tongue darted out to lick the head, but still not taking it into his mouth. 

"Peter, please," Aro pleaded, his eyes huge and desperate. "I need your mouth on me."

"I love it when you beg," Peter teased. 

He took Aro into his mouth, sucking and scraping his teeth very lightly across the shaft. Aro moaned and reached down, tangling one hand in his husband's hair, guiding him. Peter relaxed his throat and took Aro's length further down, moaning around the girth of it. The vibrations made Aro buck his hips, keening. His grip tightened in Peter's hair, his moans getting louder. 

"I'm close, my love," he said. "I'm so close."

Peter looked up at him, eyes dark with lust, lips still wrapped tightly around Aro's cock. He pressed his tongue into the slit, and Aro came, suddenly and intensely. Peter maintained eye contact as he swallowed and pulled off, a strand of drool hanging from his swollen lips. He slithered back up the bed and kissed Aro. The vampire moaned, tasting himself on his husband's tongue. He trailed a hand down Peter's torso to his cock, which was hard and leaking. He took Peter in hand and started to stroke him, kissing him languidly. Peter's moans became high and needy, his cock pulsing against Aro's hand. He came with a deep moan that Aro swallowed with their kiss, warm seed coating the vampire's fist. When they separated, they smiled at each other. 

"I love you," Peter whispered. 

"I adore you," Aro whispered back. "I always have."

They left the bed and showered together again, then, wrapped up in some soft robes, one black, the other white, they ordered room service and cuddled against each other on the leather couch, Peter's head in Aro's lap. The vampire's stroked his hair while Peter toyed with his necklace, brown eyes and red eyes warm and full of love.


End file.
